


Ask

by Artistic_Gamer



Series: Izuku haunts class 1-A [33]
Category: BnHA, Boku no Hero Academia, My Hero Academia, mha
Genre: Angst, Ghost!Izuku, IPad shenanigans, Midoriya haunts 1-A, Midoriya takes Bakugo’s advice, One Shot, Other, class 1-A in general - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:14:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26898790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artistic_Gamer/pseuds/Artistic_Gamer
Summary: The IPad reminds Bakugo of Izuku’s Quirk notes, and he tries to focus in class but to no avail.Tucked away somewhere safe, he finally gets the courage to ask the question on everyone’s minds lately.
Relationships: Bakugo Katsuki & Kirishima Eijiro, Bakugo Katsuki & Midoriya Izuku, Bakugo katsuki & Class 1-A
Series: Izuku haunts class 1-A [33]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1553269
Comments: 103
Kudos: 1000





	Ask

**Author's Note:**

> hello everyone!! not much to say, so we’ll just get right to it
> 
> hope you enjoy!! ٩( ᐛ )و

Deku muttered on and off, pausing and starting as if he was having a conversation with someone they couldn’t see, and Katsuki wondered what Glasses and Deku were talking about. He kind of got an answer a moment later when the IPad screen lit up. Katsuki watched, half listening to Aizawa speak, as the internet was pulled up and Deku typed ‘do chinchillas really bathe in ashes?’ into the search bar. He had to duck his head into his palm to hide a grin from Aizawa, chest swelling with repressed laughter. What the fuck were they talking about? Was Deku  _ arguing _ with Glasses?

The IPad - Katsuki would never admit out loud - was a major distraction for him. It served as his first physical proof that Deku hadn’t changed, even after so much time, and the way Deku interacted with it had a ton of childhood memories rushing back to him, both good and bad. It sent him into a bit of a mental tangent half the time, as memories forced their way to the front and refused to leave. He was almost caught staring several times by the old man. He hated the thought of the IPad being turned around though, so he did his best not to watch it through the whole class and only focused on it when something was happening instead, easier said than done. Thankfully, Deku didn’t mess with it much during lectures. Only his free time was spent with his eyes glued to the tablet. A relief in all honesty, he wasn’t sure how he’d explain to Aizawa why his grades were suddenly dropping, although he doubted he’d need to say anything for the old man to get why.

Deku giggled, scrolling through images of chinchillas, and Katsuki heard others in the classroom stifle laughter. Could imagine Glasses trying to tear Deku’s attention away from the IPad, chopping away.

_ Midoriya, _ Aizawa said flatly, but softer than normal.  _ Wait until the lecture is over. _

Deku’s warped speech filled the air, quiet and apologetic, and the internet was minimized. The tablet wasn’t touched again while Aizawa spoke, but the silly atmosphere Deku accidentally created didn’t fade. Some of the students still had the giggles, and no matter how hard Aizawa glared at them they didn’t stop.

During freetime was the worst. Considering the written finals were tomorrow and the finals themselves were the day after - and Aizawa was busy with adult shit - they had those couple free days to do nothing but study. As helpful as they were, it was also useless for him while Deku was around, and very quickly he realized he’d just have to study on his own if he wanted to make actual progress. The IPad’s clicking pulled him out of his work no matter how hard he tried to focus. He was too curious, too nostalgic. Maybe melancholic? He wasn’t sure.

More often than not, Deku had the notes app pulled up and was typing furiously. Everyone in the classroom wondered what he was doing, but Katsuki had no doubt that the little gremlin was getting out every Quirk rant he’d had to bottle up for years. The sound of the tablet tapping away was very reminiscent of the sound of Deku writing nonstop in his notebooks. Aizawa paid the noise no mind, and Katsuki wondered how he did it. He couldn’t pull his eyes away, personally. 

Maybe it was the memories and nothing more, but part of him knew it was curiosity. Before their relationship broke down, Deku had shared his notebooks with him, and even at such a young age Katsuki had been impressed. He’d never said it to Deku’s face - he doubted he ever could, really, therapy or not - but Deku’s notes had surpassed Katsuki’s own analysis by leaps and bounds. It was why he’d always targeted them before. It was a mark on his pride, a stark reminder of how he wasn’t as perfect as people claimed he was. Now, he only felt desperation and hope, that Deku would trust him with something so personal again, so he could not just redeem himself, but encourage Deku.

Not to mention he was just a little excited to see what Deku could do after so much time. He had to have gotten better, no question.

Another distraction that was added to the long list of them was Deku’s texting. Since Deku had a voice with no delay and easy access, he went wild with it, especially in the beginning, and Katsuki didn’t have it in him to blame the little shit. He still avoided texting during lectures - Aizawa’s flat stare being more than enough discouragement - but the moment they had free time, Deku was texting anyone and everyone. It was another reason he couldn’t study, he worried he’d miss a message. The group chat Deku had made was constantly being used by someone, even Katsuki, and he wondered when their class had made a silent pack to not leave Deku and Glasses alone.

‘hey Izu u know the answer 2 number 6??’ Dunce Face had messaged.

‘do your own work’, he shot back before Deku could reply, annoyed. ‘and that’s a shitty nickname.’

He would snap at Dunce Face out loud, but he was no snitch. Aizawa would give him hell if he found out he was trying to cheat, and very few people deserved the old bastard’s wrath.

‘ooooo someone’s jealous >:D’ Round Face typed back, and Katsuki fumed in his seat as Deku’s warped laughter filled the room. He shot her a glare over his shoulder, and she grinned back at him, holding up a peace sign, and he knew whoever had said she was innocent and angelic was a dirty liar.

‘Iida said no cheating!! Sorry Kaminari’. There was a pause, then Deku sent another message. ‘ It’s 24/8 don’t tell Iida ’.

Of course Deku answered anyway.

‘THANK U’

‘You have no brain cells Denki Is2g’, Ears texted, and Katsuki couldn’t help but agree. 

‘I’m being bullied I’m calling the pOLICE’

A private message popped up, and he switched over to that as Dunce Face continued to make a fucking fool of himself. Number six was the easiest question on the worksheet, how had he not figured that out?

‘Are you okay Kacchan?’

Katsuki clicked his tongue, mentally going over his behavior from the last couple days. ‘why? am I acting weird?’

The three bubbles appeared and disappeared for a bit. It made him nervous. ‘Yes?’ Deku finally sent. ‘You’ve been really quiet lately. Kacchan’s usually so loud!’

The absolute gall of this brat. ‘rude.’, he typed, and Deku appeared next to him just to pat his shoulder and fuck off again.

‘Seriously. Are you okay?’

Truthfully, Eyebags’ comments about All Might hadn’t left him, but he didn’t want to ruin the fun atmosphere that Deku had created by bringing the topic up. He could mention it another day.

‘just a headache.’

‘That’s lasted three days???’ 

Katsuki raised his eyebrows. Where had the fucker gotten sass from? He needed to stop hanging out with Icy Hot, the bastard was corrupting him.

‘fine, TODAY it’s a headache. I’m fine Deku I’ve just been up late studying my ass off.’ He paused. ‘not that I need it.’

‘Oh!! Right finals!’ Deku muttered something as he typed. ‘You don’t have to worry, you’ve always been so smart (•̀ᴗ•́)و you’ll do great!!’

Katsuki rolled his eyes, exasperated. He should’ve known Deku would still be a fucking sap. ‘of course I will. like you have to tell me that.’

‘Don’t be mean! D:<’

‘not mean, just the truth Deku. dunno what to tell you.’ Deku huffed, and he could imagine the squirt pouting. At first it just filled his chest with humor, but his time with Miruko had that humor dimming into thoughtfulness. Deku was obnoxious sometimes - okay a lot - but it was coming from a good place, right? Just trying to help, or encourage, or whatever was happening in the nerd’s scattered brain. Shouldn’t he….you know….be nice back? How would he even do that?

He tried a couple different things, hated all of them, and went with being blunt instead. ‘but thanks.’ he added stiffly, regretting it the moment he hit send. But when Deku sent a flurry of small faces to him, giggling around Aizawa’s desk, the regret began to fade, and the realization he might have actually succeeded sent a wave of relief over him. 

Katsuki’s face softened. He figured his time with Miruko hadn’t been useless after all.

The IPad didn’t help his worries over All Might, it almost highlighted the problem even more. Deku didn’t text during the Number One hero’s classes, didn’t search things, and Katsuki was starting to wonder if Deku even stayed in the classroom at all. He started to dread All Might’s classes as much as he used to be excited for them, sitting in his chair with his hands clenched as he subconsciously searched for Deku’s voice, presence, and was met with silence and empty space. He had gotten so used to Deku’s chill that the absence of it was unnerving.

He heard his classmates whisper to each other. He refused to join them. The whole situation was multiple pills he couldn’t swallow individually, let alone at the same time, and the speculation of others made him feel like there were dozens of eyes staring holes in his back. He had his own questions as well, a vicious cycle of them that he wasn’t sure he had the right to ask anymore. Did Deku really meet All Might and not tell him? Did Deku meet All Might, and something so awful happened either during or after that Deku didn’t get the chance? Was All Might the cause of Deku instead of himself, like he’d suspected for years? Was it both? Was it neither, and this was completely unrelated?

He came out of All Might’s classes with a headache and in a bad mood more often than not. He felt like he was going insane with the mental circle he ran through, but his mental breaks had rusted years ago from disuse, and he wasn’t sure what to do about it. He felt stuck.

It was only when he was tucked away in his home, in his bedroom, a friend by his side that he felt brave enough to ask. Kirishima had to coax him into it, more determined and sure than Katsuki had ever felt about Deku in general, and it was exactly what he needed. Kirishima had a habit of doing that - acting like a dumbass one minute and being a stable comfort the next.

_ If anyone has the right to ask, it’s you, _ he’d said, pressed against Katsuki’s side in his usual show of disregarding personal space.  _ You’re his childhood friend, Bakugo. I don’t think it’s weird to be concerned. _

So he’d asked, hands sweating, elbows tucked against his sides to hide his slight tremor, Kirishima a steady, stable warmth next to him. He helped Katsuki phrase it as politely - as gently - as possible, and as he hit send he wondered if Kirishima could teach him a thing or two. He was surprisingly good at this.

‘Deku, I had a thought and I was wondering. did you meet All Might before?’

It was left on read for three hours, and Katsuki had just tried not to panic or backpedal from the question. Their study session had been abandoned as soon as Deku had been brought up, their worksheets and notebooks scattered all over his bed, and the rustle and crinkle it all made whenever one of them moved was an unexpected comfort. It reminded him of where he was, who he was with. Kirishima did an excellent job at keeping him from getting too into his head, talking about his family and their classmates and Aizawa, anything to keep his attention and focus while they waited until his phone finally chirped. Kirishima gave him a mini pep-talk before he opened it, which he was grateful for but also thought was stupid.

It was a text. He shouldn’t feel so sick to his stomach over a reply. But he did, and it didn’t fade when he opened it.

‘I’m sorry’, was the response.

Katsuki grit his teeth against a tidal wave of emotions, too much and not enough. Kirishima took his phone from him when he couldn’t type anymore, and Katsuki told him what to type.

_ Sorry for what? _ he demanded.

_ I did. I’m sorry I never told you, _ Kirishima read aloud.  _ Okay, _ he said positively.  _ That’s not necessarily a bad sign, right? _

Katsuki took in a deep breath and counted to ten. Kirishima was right, it wasn’t. Not exactly.

_ Ask him - ask him how it went, _ Katsuki said.

They waited a minute. The phone chirped, and Kirishima hesitated.  _ Good and bad, _ he read.  _ Should I ask him why or…? _

_ Yeah. _

Katsuki waited, his heart beating hard in his throat, as Kirishima typed away. He couldn’t look at his phone directly anymore, an anxiety he hadn’t felt in a long time buzzing underneath his skin, making him want to pace around the room. But he felt frozen.

There was a beat of silence.  _ I had questions, and when I didn’t get the answers I wanted I got upset. _ Another ding of his phone had Kirishima sighing.  _ I don’t want to talk about this Kacchan.  _

_ Well  _ I _ want to talk about it, _ Katsuki snapped.  _ Why the fuck has he been acting so weird? Why does he just shut down? He should be fanboying, not cowering! It doesn’t make any fucking sense! _

Kirishima typed for a minute, then read aloud a much gentler version of Katsuki’s thoughts. He gave Kirishima the okay to send it, and he waited on pins and needles.

His phone chirped. Katsuki snatched it before Kirishima could read, unable to wait anymore.

‘please Kacchan’

His frustration threatened to strangle him. Why, even now, was that fucker putting his own shit below Katsuki’s? He didn’t care if the answer hurt, he just wanted to know -  _ needed _ to know.

He just wanted to help him. He just wanted to be his hero for once instead of his own personal villain.

Katsuki started typing, but Kirishima put his hands on his own to stop him, hardening his skin when Katsuki set off an instinctive explosion.

_ Don’t you fucking dare, _ he snapped, hating how desperate he sounded.  _ I’m not letting this asshole destroy himself in the afterlife too! _

_ You can talk to him, but you need to chill first, _ Kirishima said, hands up, pleading, and Katsuki was quietly relieved that Kirishima hadn’t commented on what he’d just blurted.  _ If you just start spitting out words he’s not gonna want to. Just take a second man. _

He did, breathed through gritted teeth, setting the phone down to let pops of mini explosions crackle along his fingers and palms, a soothing feeling and noise that he could focus on properly. Kirishima hovered worriedly, and it took everything he had to not bat him away.

This was all too new. Too much. But he couldn’t back down now.

_ Okay, _ he grumbled when his frustration was a simmer instead of a detonated grenade sending shrapnel up his throat.  _ What should I say? _

_ Why, _ Kirishima said with a shrug.  _ Why do you care to begin with? Why does it upset you, you know? He doesn’t know why you’re prying to begin with, right? _

He had a point. Katsuki picked up his phone, thinking hard. He was good at antagonizing, at being blunt, not being all mushy. Maybe he’d just stick to being blunt?

‘look,’ he started. ‘I don’t get the double standard you always set with people, it’s fucking annoying. you can ask if I’m okay, but I can’t ask you?? what kind of shit is that?’ He hit send. Hesitated. ‘you’re not acting right. you’ve done a complete one eighty and it’s weird-’ he deleted that. ‘and it’s worrying, okay?? I just want to know what’s wrong, I want to help.’

Kirishima patted his back.  _ Good job man. _

_ Don’t patronize me, _ he mumbled, but there was no heat in it. He felt emotionally exhausted, and he was - admittedly - proud of himself. Although he knew Kirishima was mostly the reason that all hadn’t gone south. He should buy the other sushi later.

The three dots appeared and disappeared for a while, and Katsuki watched it, feeling strung out. Christ, if that was what people regularly went through to talk about their feelings Katsuki would rather be known as a cold hearted bastard.

‘Okay,’ Deku sent. Typed some more. Kirishima hovered over his shoulder, waiting with him, and Katsuki felt slightly nullified that all of it at least hadn’t been a waste of time.

They waited, and waited. His phone dinged twice.

‘I asked All Might if I could be a hero, even if I was Quirkless. It was years ago,’ Deku had sent.

‘He said no.’

Toshinori was not having a good week. Technically the last month or so had been rough, but ever since he learned about Midoriya the bad days had started to blend together into one long stretch of time. Deserved, he knew, but miserable all the same.

Something had happened. He didn’t know what and didn’t have the guts to ask, but something had happened in Class 1-A. Every period he had with them was spent in complete silence, all eyes on him, and it would’ve been a good thing if not for the accusations in their eyes, questions they had but - for some reason - they didn’t ask him. Their faces were twisted in concern, suspicion, worry. To a level it was normal, but it had been extreme for a few days now and he was beginning to realize they knew something he didn’t. Admittedly, his bigger concern was them knowing something he did.

He had been trying his hardest to get a minute alone with Midoriya since the internships had ended, that is, until he heard the news about Iida Tenya’s passing. He had backed off for almost a week after that, but after questioning the teachers and hearing the students of 1-A were doing alright,  _ and _ seeing it for himself during class, he tried again. 

Again and again and again. Aizawa wasn’t having it.

Toshinori often had his period after Aizawa’s, and when he didn’t he was on a tight schedule and couldn’t dawdle. Normally having a class right after Aizawa would’ve been a good thing, but Aizawa didn’t exactly have his back anymore. Toshinori couldn’t make things better if he wasn’t even allowed to talk to the boy, but every time he arrived early to class 1-A, Aizawa was settled at his desk, looking in no rush to leave as he tapped away at his computer. No matter how many hints he gave his coworker, Aizawa didn’t leave until the bell sounded for the next class.

Okay. Aizawa was a busy man, and he didn’t want to kick the other out of his own homeroom class. Toshinori adjusted, figuring it was a better idea to not have the students listening anyway. He showed up a few minutes after the lunch period started, confident no one would be in the classroom to witness Midoriya and his’ talk.

He opened the door to see Aizawa sitting at his desk, shooting Toshinori’s stunned look a flat one of his own.

_ Did you need something? _ he asked, and Toshinori was left stuttering excuses until he backpedalled out of the room. At first he just assumed it was a one time thing, but after running into Aizawa four times in a row...

Alright. Okay. He could work with that. After school was as much of a good time to do it, maybe even better. He planned his days around giving himself time for that instead, and the first chance he got, he stayed after. Walked across the school, up the steps, to 1-A’s doors. 

Aizawa was there, typing away. Toshinori opened his mouth to object or question him or  _ something, _ but the glare he was shot made him retreat immediately.

He tried justifying it to himself, made up his own excuses. All of the teachers had been running themselves ragged so the finals went smoothly, and Aizawa in particular seemed to have a special focus on setting up the arrangements to be as seamless as they possibly could, not to mention Eraserhead was out most evenings hunting the Hero Killer,  _ and _ he heard through the grapevine that he was having private sessions with Hizashi to learn sign language - not a bad idea. He was a busy man, stretched thin. It was no wonder he was irritable and always hovering around the classroom during the times of day where he could.

But Toshinori knew that was only part of it. The death glare he was shot had personal fire behind it, not a general annoyance that came from the stress of life. It had been crafted for him, a warning not to enter his classroom unless it was absolutely necessary. 

He understood. Truly, he did, even empathized with Aizawa’s goal. With how close his coworker and Midoriya had gotten over the past couple months, it was no surprise that Aizawa was going full mama bear on Toshinori knowing what he did. The fact that he hadn’t recruited other teachers was a wonder in itself, but it was also incredibly frustrating. He needed to explain himself, or at the bare minimum apologize, even if it was too little too late. He couldn’t have Midoriya thinking he had just been an asshole and nothing more - it had been a stupid way to do it but he’d just wanted the kid safe. Midoriya had to know that before he hated him forever, if he didn’t already.

As scummy as he felt doing it, he started planning ways to get around Aizawa’s schedule, even if he had to stay after for four hours longer than he normally would. It’d be worth it, just to get a chance to set things right. Aizawa could be furious all he wanted.

He just had to try.

_ That has to be an exaggeration right? _ Kirishima asked him quickly. He felt nothing, just a lightness of shock and disbelief.

His first friend in U.A was curled in on himself, staring at his phone like he couldn’t comprehend what Izuku had just told them. He felt awful for him, although he’d never tell Bakugo that to his face. He couldn’t imagine what it was like, talking to the ghost of a best friend.

Bakugo’s face flashed through all sorts of different emotions - shock, anger, rage, disbelief, sadness - before he turned to look at him properly.

_ He wouldn’t, _ Bakugo said, and the conviction in his voice had Kirishima believe him instantly. Which meant - which meant so many things.

_ Bakugo, _ he whispered.  _ What really happened to Izuku? _


End file.
